Living With LOTR
by LupusBane
Summary: The LOTR characters are teleported to this world through an interdimensional storm after Gandalf casts a spell and they end up having to stay at me and my mates house. His idea, not mine... No Marysues involved, don’t worry
1. Murder and Cookies

**Disclaimer **- I don't own any of this really, except maybe the characters that are me and my friend (Honest, were not Mary-Sues, mainly as my mates a guy and were completely truthful about ourselves) and the insane plot of doom.

**A/N **- I thought of this, and started writing it while completely hyper on Dr Pepper and Altoids. Thus being, I apologise for any illness reading this may cause you. For privacy reasons we use different names but I assure you, these are our true selves. This is my first shot at a LOTR fic (This is my first shot isn't it? yes it is!) so it probably wont be very good. I don't have very high expectations. It is based mainly on the films as I really need to read the books again but I don't have the time.

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Living with LOTR:  
Murder and Cookies

Henk lay in a sprawled heap on the cold oak hardwood floor in front of the majestic old fireplace. His eyes were glassy and stared into space, almost looking at something no-one else could see. At first glimpse you wouldn't have noticed the large steak knife sticking out of his back…

I walked in, carrying the exceedingly large and heavy tray of cookies that Henk had requested I buy on my visit to the local supermarket. His part of the deal was to move all the boxes into their appropriate rooms. As soon as I'd got back, I realised he hadn't done it anyway. He's a lazy git if you don't watch him constantly.

By the way, I'm Libby. My best mate Henk and I decided on moving into a house together, so we could live with someone other than our parents. He's 4 years older than me, but he's still one big kid.

I might as well tell you what were like while I'm at it. Well, he's a tall, strong Dutch guy, with short brownish black hair, large blue almost puppy dog like eyes and one hell of a smart yet funny personality. I, on the other hand, am slightly taller than I should be, long straight dark brown hair, green eyes hidden by light yet permanent glasses, with a very twisted sense of humour probably due to the fact I'm considered intelligent.

Placing the tray down on a slightly undersized and worn looking end table next to the new three-seater-sofa, I noticed the knife out of the corner of my eye. Straightening up, I looked at his body lying on the floor decisively. Sighing, I walked over to him before unceremoniously kicking him in the arm.

"Get up Henk. That trick may work on some people, but my name isn't gullible."

"Ow," he yelped, "there was no reason for that mindless violence you know."

Pulling the knife from his back, the blade slid back out as I collapsed onto the sofa. I started examining it, wondering where on earth he got a stage prop like that from.

"To answer your question," Henk answered standing up to brush himself off, "I found it in a box in the basement."

"It's a cellar, mate. In England we call basements cellars." I said, still examining the sharp edge.

"Whatever you say."

In the silence of me still looking at the knife and Henk picking out a specific cookie to eat, the house seemed eerie. Frightening almost. It was an old manor house situated in the Yorkshire countryside. We had bought it from our combined funds for a bargain price, mainly due to the fact the previous owner needed a quick sale and it needed extensive renovation done to it. Henk had liked it on account that 'we can have massive parties here and no-one would complain about the noise'. Like I said, he is a seriously big kid sometimes.

"What time is it?"

The sudden sound of his voice made me jump, and the knife which I had been running across my finger pierced the flesh as my hands moved. It fell out of my grasp and landed on a floor with a dull clank.

"Ow," I said instinctively, stopping the blood flow with pressure from my other hand, "that hurt."

"That was a bit stupid wasn't it," Henk sighed as he sat down next to me to inspect my finger, "you should be glad it's not rusty. You might've got tetanus from it."

He peered in closer at the cut, which was slowly but surely clotting up.

"It'll be ok, don't worry. What is the time anyway?"

Glancing at my watch, I realised it was already 9:30pm.

"9:30," I said before realising he measured time differently to me, "21:30. Any more questions master?"

"No, your ok," he replied with a large grin on his face, "want to come to bed then?"

Smiling back at him, I shook my head.

"I'm going to bed on my own thank you very much. Goodnight Henk."

"Night Libby."

We both stood up at the same time, and started on our way to the main door out into the hallway that contained the stairs to the upper floors. Suddenly, Henk turned around and vaulted over the sofa, before grabbing the final cookie and running back to the door.

"I forgot this."

Shaking my head in comic disbelief, I made my way up the aged staircase to my bedroom on the second floor, leaving Henk to go to the opposite end of the corridor to get to his room. As soon as I got inside and closed the door I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep dreamless sleep, not even bothering to get changed.


	2. Allies and Enemies

**Disclaimer **- I don't own any of this really, except maybe the characters that are me and my friend (Honest, were not Mary-Sues, mainly as my mates a guy and were completely truthful about ourselves) and the insane plot of doom.

**A/N **- I thought of this, and started writing it while completely hyper on Dr Pepper and Altoids. Thus being, I apologise for any illness reading this may cause you. For privacy reasons we use different names but I assure you, these are our true selves. This is my first shot at a LOTR fic (This is my first shot isn't it? yes it is!) so it probably wont be very good. I don't have very high expectations. It is based mainly on the films as I really need to read the books again but I don't have the time.

Review Info  
Black as the Shadows: Yes thanks, I never thought of that so if you check I have changed a bit... That's what reviews are all about!

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Living with LOTR:  
Allies and Enemies

Waking up, I immediately heard the sound of Henk shouting. More like screaming I thought as I got out of bed slowly, not wanting to rush myself in case of a sudden migraine attack. Staring at myself in the mirror, I realised I looked extremely tired and a complete mess. Shrugging off that fact, I started to make my way downstairs to see what the screams, which were getting more and more urgent, were about.

Shuffling down the long corridor that made up the 11 bed roomed second floor, I took the servants stairs which skipped a level and entered right into the kitchen. From my room, I had guessed that that was where the screams were emanating from.

Entering through the door next to the storage cupboard, I stopped in my tracks as soon as I saw who was making the noise. More like what was making the noise to be more precise. Henk was crashing back and forth across the kitchen, with a large black and silver object clinging to his t-shirt. It was making a horrific screeching sound resembling a very large drunken rabbit trying to play a broken violin. Where I got that comparison from, I didn't actually know seen as I doubt rabbits can play violins, even if they are drunk and the violin is broken.

The initial comic value of the scene was shaken off as soon as I saw that Henk was losing to whatever this thing was. Grabbing an empty beer bottle off the table right next to me, I ran up to him to try and help get the thing off. The next few minutes consisted of a desperate thrashing attempt by Henk, an effort to try and whack it around the head with the bottle from me, and an even louder screeching from the thing.

When I was starting to tire myself out with all the attacking, a sudden clunk of glass on something hollow came from the general direction of the thing. It immediately let go, and landed on all fours on the flagged stone floor of the large kitchen. We both looked down at it, with Henk clutching his t-shirt which was now covered in holes.

"What the hell was that doing in here?" he asked, still in a state of shock.

The cat started hissing at us violently as we just continued to stare at it. Now I could see it wasn't black and silver, just black. The light must have been reflecting at an odd angle to create the silver.

"No idea, did you let it in?" I replied calming down.

"You think I would let a creature like that in? I hate katten."

Abruptly, it ran and jumped onto the counter to the left of us. Looking back and hissing one last time it scrambled out of the window above the sink, which I only just noticed was open.

"That's how it got in you idiot. Did you open the window?"

I looked accusingly at Henk who was checking to see if his shirt was still repairable.

"No, it just flew open when a draft came through the house. They aren't very secure remember." He said, looking up at me.

About to reply, a loud crash came from the living room. Immediately my attention was on what had just happened in there and I completely forgot what I was going to say.

"It's probably that dumb feline again." Henk moaned.

I joined him as he started to walk towards the door that led into the living room. He was walking slowly, which I guessed was because if he got there slower than me, he wouldn't have to open the door. That meant I would get attacked by the cat instead of him if I wasn't careful.

When we finally got to the door (Henk seriously took his time) he just stood there looking as if he was trying to stare through it with x-ray vision.

"Oh, let me do it." I sighed, pulling on the door handle and opening the door.

As I stepped through, I stopped in my tracks. Henk actually bumped into me when he too walked through the doorframe.

"Hey, what have you -" but he too stopped as soon as he saw what I had seen.

Five men were standing around in front of the fireplace where Henk had been playing dead the day before. Meanwhile, four children seemed to be running around and talking to each other on the rug to the one side of the fireplace. The men seemed to be discussing something, as they were standing in a circle all facing each other. One was tall with long, rough looking grey robes and a gnarled staff who seemed to be the leader, while another was a tall blond haired young man carrying a hefty longbow along with a few light knives. There was a very short man, almost as small as the children but with a large brown beard and some heavy looking axes. Then there were the two most normal looking. One had dark brown, almost black hair with an overall rugged look to him and he just seemed to be listening to the old man intently, and the other had lighter brown hair with more of a cleaned look, even if he did still look rough, and a light beard. He was carrying a large round shield and some sort of horn but he was intently watching the children play. Both of the men were carrying large swords and as soon as the elder man moved I caught a glimpse of one on his person too.

Before we both really had time to take all this information in, they had realised we were there. All of them simultaneously drew their weapons with lightning speed and pointed them at us. The children had stopped playing and talking and were looking at us in a mixture of fear and curiosity. With their faces turned towards us, I noticed they didn't seem to be children. More like mini sized men, as their features seemed to be that of mid-twenty year olds.

Having a bow, some axes, a very heavy looking staff and two swords pointed at me really freaked me out, so I pulled Henk in front of me and used him as a human shield. He wasn't really too happy about this and in turn decided to get back behind me. Giving up on the fact I was probably never going to be able to get behind him I decided to be civilised.

Facing the men who had raised their weapons to my head height, I mustered up all my courage to talk to them calmly. When you do have the small problem of certain death in your wake, you do use quite a lot of energy to be calm and cultured. The amount of effort I had already used to get that far had already worn me out, so when I did finally utter some words they were very weak and I could hardly hear myself.

"Umm excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing here? Speaking on behalf of us and all." I squeaked vaguely motioning to myself and Henk, who was looking on.

"I could ask the same of you," came the gruff voice of the axe wielder.

"Settle down Gimli," another voice said, which when I looked up from Gimli (as he called him) turned out to be from the old man. "I suppose they do have reason to question us being here, just as I am too."

At this he lowered his staff and motioned for the others to do the same. All but the man with the round shield did so, how kept his sword firmly pointed at the side of my head.

"Boromir, that's enough." The man with the darker hair said, "Do as Gandalf says."

"Aragorn, I still do not trust them. How else could we have got here other than dark magic, maybe even Sauron himself…" he muttered.

"Do not talk of that friend, now lower your sword before something happens you may regret."

Listening to the voice of reason, Boromir put his sword back in its sheath but never did he take his eyes off us while doing so.

"How are we going to do this then?" Gandalf murmured to himself.

"I suggest we all discuss this over brunch!" a strong Scottish accent proclaimed.

Finally breaking eye contact with Boromir, I looked down to see one of strangely short men tugging on the old man's cloak.

"Stop that you fool of a Took! Do you want me to turn you into a blasted firework?"

"So that's where you get those things mister Gandalf sir." The voice of another one of the men said, this time the slightly chubby one.

"Stop teasing them," the tall blond one uttered, "and let us discuss this problem. For the sooner we discuss it the faster it can be solved."

"Very true Legolas. Is there anywhere we can talk about this?" Gandalf asked Henk from under the rim of his hat.

He pointed through the doorway we had come through, "We can sit in the kitchen if you would like, and there is a big table in there."

The small men ran through first, closely followed by Gandalf and Legolas. Gimli walked beside Aragorn and Henk followed. I gestured to Boromir to go too, but he wouldn't move; all he did was stare at me until I felt compelled to go first.

Entering the kitchen, Gandalf and Henk had already taken a seat at the table. The others were all standing up behind their own chairs. Feeling slightly intimidated by everyone standing up, I took my seat and sat down next to Henk. Boromir had come in after me, and he stood by Legolas still staring.

"So," the wizard said rubbing his hands, "Time for introductions. I am Gandalf the grey, also called Mithrandir and I'm a wizard. This is Legolas Greenleaf, prince of the Mirkwood Elves. Next is Boromir, future steward of Gondor. There is Meridoc Brandybuck, a hobbit who likes to be called Merry. Standing nest to him is Peregrin Took who is the youngest hobbit and Merry's cousin. Then there's Frodo -"

"Hey!" Peregrin interrupted, "I'm called Pippin."

Gandalf sighed and carried on.

"Yes, he's Pippin. Then it's Frodo Baggins, and there's Sam Gamgee who is Frodo's gardener. There is Gimli, son of Gloin, a dwarf and finally Strider whose real name is Aragorn, future king of Gondor."

Pippin waved madly at Henk and received a sharp elbow from Merry.

"I'm Libby and this is Henk. He's from Holland so he gets a few words wrong sometimes." I explained.

Gandalf nodded before starting to talk to us again, "I do not know what this place called Holland is, but where are we now?"

Henk came in with an answer as quick as he could, "our house, Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom, Europe."

All of the men looked at the wizard in a confused manner, obviously still unknowing. He sighed again.

"I still do not know. We are from Middle Earth, and I have a feeling we're not going to get back very easily. We're on a very important mission which we cannot disclose the nature of – it could endanger the entire of Middle Earth if it fails."

Silence fell over us all, as me and Henk tried to take it all in, with the added doubt of a secret mission.

"So… uhhh," I wondered aloud, "how did you get here to our house then?"

Henk nodded in agreement and I remembered what Boromir had said about dark magic.

"It may just be there was an inter-dimensional storm that got us here. Just before we ended up in your living room, I was about to cast a fire starting spell to get some slightly damp sticks to set alight. There was probably a split in the barrier and my magic opened it up a bit more accidentally pulling us through."

"How can we get back then? If that's how we got here?" Aragorn questioned.

"I don't know… it may take time. Hopefully the ring will be safe here for now."

"So until then?" Gimli kicked in.

Everyone fell silent again as Henk suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.

"Why don't they stay with us, we have plenty of room," he whispered.

I stared glassy eyed at the table thinking about it. I slowly nodded and looked at Henk as he straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Why don't you stay with us? Just until you have sorted it all out."

Without waiting for an answer from anyone else, Legolas said, "It seems fine to me."

The hobbits laughed and Gandalf smiled.

"I think we will thank you very much."

"Aragorn, get your feet off the table now! And what have I told you about smoking inside? Don't do it!"

The ranger sighed and removed his slightly cleaner boots from the table as he extinguished his pipe.

"You're worse than Arwen you know."

"I don't care who I'm worse than," I said whilst walking into the kitchen carrying an overflowing basket of washing, "it's our house so abide by our rules if you please."

The problem about being the only person willing to do something (and the only woman in the house, but I shouldn't say that due to the whole sexist monkey nut thing) was I had to do all the washing. Not so bad you may say, well now consider there are 9 awesomely dirty men in the house and one who really cannot aim right – and that is why I failed to notice the hobbits sitting around in the kitchen by the range.

Walking straight past them, I loaded up the washing machine and turned around to go check on Aragorn. A split second of shock gave way to the scene of me covering my eyes and humming loudly.

"What's wrong with you?" came a voice from behind me.

"Small men – nakedness – don't really want to see." I somehow muttered through the humming.

Raucous laughter filled the room, followed by a very loud groan from the voice behind me.

"You didn't have to do that!"

"My foot… slipped? Upwards anyway. Hope I didn't do any permanent damage Henk, now if you would kindly direct me to the door I shall carry on doing what I was doing."

Some form of Dutch swearing uttered from his lips, but stopped immediately as I raised my foot again.

Leaving the nude hobbits to it, I walked out into the garden and sat down on one of the benches overlooking the massive man-made lake.


	3. Nakedness and Explosions

**Disclaimer** - I don't own any of this really, except maybe the characters that are me and my friend (Honest, were not Mary-Sues, mainly as my mates a guy and were completely truthful about ourselves) and the insane plot of doom. 

**A/N** - I thought of this, and started writing it while completely hyper on Dr Pepper and Altoids. Thus being, I apologise for any illness reading this may cause you. For privacy reasons we use different names but I assure you, these are our true selves. This is my first shot at a LOTR fic (This is my first shot isn't it? yes it is!) so it probably wont be very good. I don't have very high expectations. It is based mainly on the films as I really need to read the books again but I don't have the time.

Review Info  
Gnaike De Foxy: Excuse me whilst I go write a list of all the characters and the spellings of their names... Seriously, I need it... Thanks**

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Living with LOTR:  
Nakedness and Explosions

"Aragorn, get your feet off the table now! And what have I told you about smoking inside? Don't do it!"

The ranger sighed and removed his slightly cleaner boots from the table as he extinguished his pipe.

"You're worse than Arwen you know."

"I don't care who I'm worse than," I said whilst walking into the kitchen carrying an overflowing basket of washing, "it's our house so abide by our rules if you please."

The problem about being the only person willing to do something (and the only woman in the house, but I shouldn't say that due to the whole sexist monkey nut thing) was I had to do all the washing. Not so bad you may say, well now consider there are 9 awesomely dirty men in the house and one who really cannot go a day without falling in some mud or something – and that is why I failed to notice the hobbits sitting around in the kitchen by the range.

Walking straight past them, I loaded up the washing machine and turned around to go check on Aragorn. A split second of shock gave way to the scene of me covering my eyes and humming loudly.

"What's wrong with you?" came a voice from behind me.

"Small men – nakedness – don't really want to see." I somehow muttered through the humming.

Raucous laughter filled the room, followed by a very loud groan from the voice behind me.

"You didn't have to do that!"

"My foot… slipped? Upwards anyway. Hope I didn't do any permanent damage Henk, now if you would kindly direct me to the door I shall carry on doing what I was doing."

Some form of Dutch swearing uttered from his lips, but stopped immediately as I raised my foot again.

Leaving the nude hobbits to it, I walked out into the garden and sat down on one of the benches overlooking the massive man-made lake.

I started to wonder about why I was putting up with these guys. From my position on the raise of the hill I could hear clear voices on the wind. One was high and laughing, another shouting and grunting. After spending a few days with the Fellowship of whatever (they had yet to disclose anymore information except that they were a Fellowship…) I had started to recognise each one by their antics. Without even having to strain my eyes to find the figures in the wood next to the lake, I realised it was Gimli and Legolas – the elf was probably teasing the dwarf again. He never seemed to tire of stealing one of Gimli's possessions and climbing up a tree…

They suddenly broke from the cover of the oaks and onto the grass. It was more that Legolas broke the cover, as Gimli was still trying to pull his foot out of a ground lying root at the edge of the forest. The elf made the most of his folly and darted across the lawn towards the house waving something above his head. As he saw me more closely he slowed to a gentle jog and smiled at me, which I felt compelled to return.

"Libby! How is this wonderful day treating you?" he asked, sitting down on my bench.

"Fine thanks mate – why is Gimli chasing you this time? Stolen his axe? Cape? Remaining brain cells?"

He uttered a high pitched laugh as he showed me his catch: a brooch.

"I found it on his bedside table this morning and decided to inspect it a bit closer. Of course, he thought I wasn't going to give it back and gave chase. Here he comes now," the elf explained as he nodded towards the puffing figure making its way up the slope.

"Give it back you stupid tree-hugger!" the figure of Gimli gasped as he neared our seating place.

To quell a potentially dangerous argument, as both still had their concealed weapons, I quickly grabbed the brooch out of Legolas' hand and pushed it into Gimli's. The elf put up no resistance, and I got the impression his fun for the morning was over.

"Thanks I guess… you'll regret this Elfy. I'll get you when you never expect it!" he grunted before storming off back into the kitchen.

Again Legolas uttered a high pitched laugh and stood up next to me. He simply shrugged his shoulders in my direction and then loped back to the tree line, where he promptly disappeared.

I leaned back on my bench, looking again at the glittering sunlight reflecting off the lake. It was a beautiful day - that was true - and especially rare for the time of year. Everyone had settled down well, including me and Henk.

Fortunately we had enough bedrooms to accommodate everyone, and by the first night all of us had retired gratefully to a clean bed. Gandalf had told us that it was within our best interests that we didn't know of their mission, as it could endanger us as much as them – not a thought I liked to think about as Pippin was describing being chased by some "Black Riders".

We all got into our own routines: Gandalf taking refuge in the cellar where he was working some magic to try and return the group, Legolas taunting Gimli, the Hobbits teaching Henk how to cook, Aragorn making sure everything around the house was "safe" for the adventurous Hobbits and Boromir wandering about aimlessly trying to convince everyone I was Sauron himself.

Unfortunately Boromir's words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as neither Henk nor I had any clue who Sauron was so we simply told him he was mad and walked off – every time we did this he seemed to get angrier and I had the scary feeling he was about to kick in one of our glass doors the last time I dared say it.

There was the small problem that arose of their weapons; none of them would give them up. The only way we could convince them to get rid of the risk of accidentally stabbing each other in the house was to have them positioned within easy reach of every room. That created a massive problem.

After hours of debate, in which the Hobbits raiding the fridge seven times without our knowledge, we decided to put them on the wall in the hallway. It was large enough to accommodate all the weapons, with the taller owner's having theirs higher up and the smaller (vertically challenged as I am told) owner's having theirs nearer the floor. Of course, that didn't stop each one carrying some form of defence item on their person.

I snapped out of my daze to the sound of a large muffled explosion from the outer entrance to the cellar – followed closely by Gandalf's shout of "SUCCESS!"

Running over to the trapdoor, I tugged it open and got a blast in the face of smoke. Choking and gasping for breath, I looked down into the depths of the cellar to see a joyous looking wizard and two other figures embracing. All three looked like they had just fallen down a chimney, with Mithrandir's hair being the most shocking as it seemed to have been blasted into a Mohican style.

I heard the sound of running feet behind me and turned to do a quick head count. The door leading to the house from the cellar was locked (luckily) so everyone had gathered around the outer trapdoor. There were eight people behind me, nine including myself, along with three in the cellar.

Something didn't add up. Nine of us outside, three in the cellar. With nine of the Fellowship and Henk and I, there should only have been eleven of us. So unless my counting had taken a turn for the worse or my eyesight had crumbled to dust, there was another visitor we had to make room for.

Coughing himself, but wearing a broad smile, Gandalf came up the stairs leading to where we were standing. He grabbed Aragorn roughly around the shoulders and faced us all.

"I have found out the way to get back!"

Everyone wore a broad grin themselves, as we all paid full attention to the wizard.

"But it's still experimental," he explained, "I found out a way to perhaps create a link and it worked, but it's in its early stages and needs a lot of research."

The smiles lessened slightly, but we all still had the same enthusiasm as before – if he could create a rift so quickly, however temperamental, then he could easily create another more stable one soon.

"How long do you think it will be Mr Gandalf?" piped up Sam.

"No idea, but until then you get to spend time with one of my favourite students!"

I suddenly remembered the other figure I had seen, and peered around him and Strider to see who it was that had just walked into the welcoming sunlight.

"This is Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir and a ranger of Gondor!" said Gandalf.

Henk and I looked at each other and a single thought passed between us – this was going to get harder before it got any easier.


End file.
